


Hawkeye's Debrief

by crystalkei



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint missed all the fun and wants Natasha to fill him in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hawkeye's Debrief

“Where the fuck were you?” Natasha asked as she slammed the door to the brownstone, the mail tossed on the sofa table and her keys hurled at Clint’s chest. He caught them before standing up from his spot on the couch.

 

“I was in Ulaanbaatar. On Fury’s orders. I told you I was going out quiet.” Clint tossed the keys in the bowl by the door with his own. “But I leave for six days and the world goes to shit. Like, is my 401k even going to roll over?”

 

“This is why I didn’t want to go to Europe with Fury to meet you.” Her shoulders slumped and she exhaled deeply. Clint hit the keypad to relock the door and then leaned against it facing her.

 

“Because you didn’t want me to bug you about the fact that I’m not even going to get to cash in all that vacation time I’ve been saving _on your request_?” She rolled her eyes. “Three months leave, that would have been handy in this job market. But no, I said I’d go on that long con with you.”

 

“Stop calling it a ‘long con,’ it’s a freelance job, not an episode of one of your TV shows.” She leaned over to pull her boots off. “And we can still do that job, obviously, we don’t even have to ask for time off.” She smiled coyly and he made a face. “It will be worth double what that three months leave would have given you. I can’t believe you missed all this shit.”

 

“I can’t believe it either,” Clint said moving to the spot on the couch next to her. He laid his head on the back of the sofa and sighed. Then turned to her with a small smile. “I’m gonna need you to reenact the whole thing.”

 

“No.”

  
“Oh c’mon!” he sounded like a child. “I got the very short version from Fury. He didn’t even tell me about Winter Soldier except to say that he was killing people on Pierce’s orders. You’ve looked for that Six Million Dollar Soviet Man before. I want to hear what went down!”

 

“It’s Bucky Barnes. Winter Soldier, the Ghost, he’s Bucky Barnes. It was a whole manpain thing with him and Steve.” She waved her hand before digging around in her pocket to pull out her phone.

 

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Clint asked dryly as he handed her two takeout menus: one Thai, one Indian.  She reached for the Indian one before speaking again.

 

“He was Steve’s BFF, they fought in the war together. Known each other since they were kids…” she trailed off as she perused the menu. Her finger landed on the menu under the spicy vindaloo. “Mother Russia and Hydra made him a killing machine with no memory.“

 

“Great, now we’ve got two 94 year old GQ models walking around.”  Clint said taking the menu, “Yeah, I’ll have that too, but get some samosas.”

 

“I wouldn’t call him a GQ model. Think more ruggedly handsome and dirty.” She started to dial.

 

“You like them dirty.” He dodged a swat as she called in the food. He noticed her wince when she tried to hold the phone against her left shoulder. When she finished the short call he turned back to her. “So you want to catalog the hurt for me? Because I was freezing my ass off watching for what I didn’t know was a Hydra lab.”  
  
“Hmmm, I got blown up in the Lumarian Star,” she started ticking off on her fingers. “A building fell on top of us in New Jersey, then we were in this whole battle on the 495. I got shot in shoulder. I gotta stop partnering with Steve, he gets me shot.”  
  
“I get you shot too, Nat,” he said teasingly. “And we had that building fall down on us in Tanzania.”  

 

“I used a widow bite on myself to short out some tech that was going to burn a whole through my chest.” Natasha gestured to where the lapel pin had been, wiping lint from her shirt. “Sorry by the way, for that time I used it on you in Reykjavik. It hurts.”  
  
Clint laughed. “Yeah, it does hurt. Karma or something.

 

“So seriously, my healthcare flex account, you think I can move that?” He shifted himself to lean against the armrest, moving his bare feet to the couch by Natasha. She put a hand on his leg.  

 

“I don’t think that’s going to transfer to our new freelance gig.” She furrowed her brow. “I’m certainly not rehirable by the US government.”

 

“Yeah, smarting off to a senate committee is probably not the best career move, but it certainly made a point.”

 

“And a great exit.” She seemed to turn inward for a moment, not really there. Clint let her think a minute before using his toes to nudge her thigh.

 

“Tasha?” he asked gently. She looked up and tried to smile.

 

“We’re starting all over again. It’s like a cycle that resets itself every few years. I’m fine. I’ve done it before. But,” she paused and tilted his head waiting for her to start again.  “Did you ever think, when Fury told you, did you think I was one of them?”

 

“Never had a chance to even think it. I wasn’t filled in on all of it until you were already cleared. “ He put his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “But I assumed you’d second-guess me. Especially since I was on radio silence.”

 

“You’re too incompetent to have been Hydra,” she joked. Clint threw a pillow at her.  

 

“We should move to Tonga,” Clint said before grabbing the remote and switching it on. Jeopardy appeared on the screen.

 

“They don’t have cable in Tonga,” Natasha said grabbing Clint’s legs and scooting herself closer to him, putting his legs across her lap.

 

“You’ve never been there, you don’t know that.” He put his arm on the back of the couch, playing with some of her hair. “ _We’ve_ never been there which is a big plus. If there’s no one to assassinate or investigate it’s a place we should think about living. No alien landings, no weird shit.”  
  
“No Master Chef, no Real Housewives, no Game of Thrones, and no work.” She looked at him pointedly. “And no work. We’d go crazy with no work.”

 

“Laying on the beach is work.”

 

“But what am I going to wear? I’ve got one in the gut, and now one in the shoulder?” She smiled.

 

“You know I don’t care. And I’m pretty sure the Tongan’s think scars are sexy.” He winked.

 

“What do Tongan’s even eat?” she asked as Alex Trebek droned on.

 

“I dunno, let’s google it later. And let’s ask Hill if she knows if my 401k will rollover.”

 

 


End file.
